Dead and Damned
by blackveins
Summary: This is a continuation of some of my other writings, but you don't have to read them to enjoy this! This story is about a half vampire who knows nothing of her fathers past. New and old characters in new crazy situations! This takes place in the Next Generation.
1. Platform Nine and Three Quarters

(( A/N: To readers who follow my other stories: This is a continuation of that same plot line. I would like to eventually put up a story explaining howAster came to be... but I don't feel like it. To new readers: Read, enjoy, and please review? ))

Aster eyed the wall between platform nine and ten wearily, her mother and father urging her forward. "Try to take it at a run Aster." Her mother said sweetly, pushing her forward slightly. "We've not got all day, Asteraceae." With a scowl at her father she snapped her eyes shut and ran at the wall. She hated it when he called her by her full name. It was a nice name, but every time someone heard it they insisted on her repeating it until they could pronounce it... But they never really could. They would eventually blurt out something similar to her name with a triumphant grin and she would applaud them on their correctness... So that they would stop trying. Though it really didn't seem that difficult a task.

Only she and her parents had ever said it properly, so she had eventually taken up the name Aster to avoid any more incidents. When she opened her eyes she was in fact standing at platform nine and three quarters. She wasn't really shocked, but simply hadn't liked the idea of ramming a cart into a brick wall. Her parents waltzed through the wall behind her, her mother smiling and her father scowling. Father wasn't actually angry, but a scowl was his default expression. Under the scowl she could hear a glowing, prideful smile.

You cant actually hear facial expressions, but with father that was the best way to describe it. For the most part he was relaxed and at peace with the world, though it was not reflected outwardly. He loved her and her mother deeply. He loved another woman though, a dead one. Aster had grown up hearing both her mother and father speaking fondly of the woman named Lily, and there had always been a picture of her on the mantle. Aster would never tell, but sometimes she took the picture to her room and conversed with it. Lily was a very good listener. Aster regarded her mostly as a very dear dead aunt. A legend captured in a frame.

In contrast mother was perpetually chipper, but her smile was usually masking a soul deep discomfort with the world. Her life before father had been long and terrible, and he had been her soul comfort in its darkness. She stayed at home most days and made potions for the shop they ran together. Mother and father had both been keen to see to her teachings on potion making. Aster was not looking forward to spending her class time working on potions ten years under her ability level for the next seven years, but it was very important she also learn other forms of magic as well.

Father knelt to her level. "Do you see that man with the black hair?" He asked. Aster nodded silently. "He's the Boy-who-lived. His mother is Lily." Her father said quietly. Aster turned to stare into her fathers was a churning of thousands of emotions swirling deep inside his blue eyes. So many thoughts and feelings it was almost overwhelming. Aster looked again at the legendary son of the legendary woman who sat on the mantle. That man had ended one of the greatest wars this century. Aster's eyes widened in amazement.

The man looked to her like an ordinary man tousling the hair of his eldest son before pushing him toward the train. The mans red haired wife was giving her second son one last check before he got on the train and Aster could hear the older boy shouting "Slytherin, Slytherin, Al's gonna be in Slytherin!" As he jumped onto the train. Aster could see from the ay their mother hugged the younger boy that he was quite distressed that his brother might be correct. "Is it his first year too?" Aster asked, pointing at the younger boy being comforted by his mother.

"Don't point. Its rude." Snapped her father pushing her hand down. He thought for a moment and responded in a kinder voice than usual. "Yes. It is unlikely, but if you are sorted into the same house... be kind to that boy. Do not make a ruckus about his fame, its hard on the heart." It was odd for father to say such a thing. "What house should I be in?" Aster asked, she had been looking forward to schooling, but knew little of the houses. Father refused to talk about it, and mother only said that she should be happy with any house.

Her father stared at her for a very long time, and once again he gave her a non-definitive answer. "You will come to peace with whichever house you are put it." Aster thought about his words. She knew that her mother had been placed in Ravenclaw, and there had been hints that her father hated Gryffindor. Though, she knew much more than she let on. She had once managed to break the ward on his journal and had learned so many things about her father it was difficult to remember them all at once. In his journal he mentioned Slytherin with fondness, but his writings didn't go into much detail.

From what she had pieced together, he had lived an entirely different life before he met mother. She figured out that he had once been a very different man with the title The Half-blood Prince, but that that man he had been was known to be dead now. It seemed very important that she not let on that she knew that. Her father had been a Slytherin, and teased by a boy named James. He had been in love with Lily, and he still missed her greatly. He had hidden his old life away, and Aster respected that. That as really all she knew from his cobbled together written thoughts.

Aster nodded, and listened carefully as her father pointed out several more faces in the crowd. Some of the faced had been in the paper, some were names she had never heard before. Aster listened, nodded,and tried to remember all that she said. When father had divulged the last of the knowledge he was willing to give, he pulled Aster in for a long hug. Father was not keen on hugs, so Aster savored the moment and listened carefully to the words he whispered into her ear.

"Be very careful about who knows what about you, Aster. The wrong information in the wrong hands could be devastating." His low words of caution didn't shake her. She was use to statements like this. She knew he thought he was speaking of her mothers blood in her veins, but unknown to him she also knew details of her fathers past were just as precious. What he spoke of no was that her mother had been bitten by a vampire in childhood, and had suffered with the symptoms ever since.

As a born vampire Aster had cravings for blood, a sensitivity to sunlight, and an allergy to garlic. She did not NEED blood to survive, but required a strong red meat diet and struggled with anemia. He mother had given her many tips of advice on how to fit in with the other students and had warned her that if people knew what she was that she could get expelled out of necessity. The headmaster of the school had come to her house to discuss with her mother the details on her special treatment at school.

In all honesty, being a vampire wasn't that difficult. Now days vampires, especially the ones born that way such as herself, could fit in fine at school... but old lore about vampires kept normal witches and wizards wary of them. At every meal there would be at least one item provided that was specialized to her dietary needs, and she would be permitted to stay in the shade for outdoor classes. Her mother had packed her a stash of blood-pops for the year as an occasional treat. Blood consumption wasn't needed, but it was still delicious.

She had been warned that biting another student could be grounds for expulsion, even though biting someone was not enough to turn them. To turn someone into a vampire she would need to completely drain them of blood and then feed them her own blood, a very tedious and non-accidental task. There were a great number of laws surrounding the subject, and turning anyone before they were 18 could get her sent to Askaban. These were things her mother had been teaching her about her whole life.

All in all... This made Aster "Daughter of the Dead and the Damned".


	2. Jira

Aster helped her mother do one last check of her bags, and peeked into Jira's box to make sure she was still sleeping. Jira was Aster's new pet kitten. Father had gotten her the kitten as a surprise for the new school year, and she had only gotten the pet that morning. If she wasn't worried about her new pet getting lost, Aster would be holding her that second, she had made quite a fuss about having to put her new companion in a box for several hours. The most amazing thing bout Jira was her coloration.

Jira was a very rare white opal cat, and thought her fir was mostly whitish it shifted between vibrant rainbow shades whenever the cat moved. The only dark part of the kitten was its pitch black eyes. Father had discovered the species on a trip to China before he had married mother, and worked hard to get her one for first year at school. Aster had never seen a creature like it, and was desperately looking forward to playing with her on the train. Father's only words had been "I'll not see my daughter with any less of a pet."

With a kiss on the cheek and a encouraging words from her mother, Aster was on the train. She stumbled through the chatter of children trying to find a seat, and was almost knocked down by an over excited James Potter as he chased after a giggling Hufflepuff girl. When she had reached a cabin that didn't have any shouting coming from it, she ducked in without a second thought. There was a blond haired boy attempting to put his luggage on the overhead rack, but Aster shot him a murderous glare and he pulled it down again.

"Sorry..." The boy murmured as he suddenly decided he should find a different cabin. Aster knew how to be sociable, polite and sweet... but she didn't like to be. She spent quite a bit of time watching the potions shop with her father, and had become quite adept at working with people. But her anti-social nature had come from both of her parents, and she was not bothered by it.

Aster heaved her main bag onto the overhead rack, and turned to the window to wave at her parents at her parents. They ran to her flailing hand and wished her their last goodbyes before the train began moving. Aster, usually of very calm manner, could feel excitement boiling in her gut like bubbles in a cauldron. After a few more quips of advice from mother the train gave a loud shriek to signal its departure, and lunged forward. Aster waved out the window like all the other children, until father and mother vanished into the fog.

With a heavy sigh Aster slumped into her seat beside Jira's box. Father had given the kitten a sleeping drought and it would not wake until after the sorting ceremony. Jira didn't so much as twitch an ear when Aster pulled her from the box and cradled her in her arms. "This is it... Were on our way to Hogwarts." Aster whispered to the sleeping ball of fur. Aster pulled a book from the side bag she had brought and prepared herself for a the long train ride.

About half an hour had passed when there was a light tap on the thin door. Getting up would require moving the kitten, so Aster called for them to come in. She was surprised that anyone was knocking at this time. It was hours before mother told her the candy trolley would come, and it was long since she had needed to scowl out and other children that thought to find her cabin a refuge from the trains noise. Aster prepared herself to glare out another soon to be classmate, and was taken aback to see the younger Potter boy peeking through the crack in the door.

She gave him a long curious stare,but said nothing. "C'n I sit there?"The boy asked prying the door open slightly to point at the empty seat across from her. Aster eyed him warily, but nodded. The boy drug his bag in and flinched hen something fell from it with a clatter. Aster didn't see what it was, as the book she was reading had been returned to its place covering her vision. Though, quite suddenly she had forgotten how to read.

Aster listened as the boy shuffled to and fro, packing his bags as quickly and quietly as possible. Once or twice she pulled the book down slightly to watch the boy, but put it up again before he noticed. There were red splotches on his face and he had obviously been crying. The boy flopped into his seat across from her, and dropped his head into his hands.

Aster had just about assumed that the boy would maintain the silence when he suddenly blurted out "My names Al." Aster pulled her book down slightly to stare at the outstretched hand in front of her, waiting to be shaken. She looked at the boy's hand and then his face. He looked like he was in pain attempting to talk to her. It was clear that he as shy, but unsure of how to cope with it. Aster tried not to look offended as she set her book down to shake his outstretched hand.

In all honesty, he seemed quite nice. She had preemptively assumed that he would not wish to speak to her and that her fathers advice had been in vein... but perhaps she was wrong. The boy looked less miserable after the handshake, and Aster left her book on the chair to see if he had anything more to say. Al looked out the window, and she looked with him.

"Sorry to barge in. My brother said I couldn't stay in his cabin 'n case I really was a Slytherin. Said he didn't want to be associated with a dirty Slytherin." Al's words trailed off as he gazed at the window. Shortly he began speaking again. "If it weren't for him I don't thing it'd be so bad, but If I was one... I'd never hear the end of it." He turned to look at her with a baleful gaze. Al seemed quite in need of better company, Aster observed.

There was a long silence as he waited for a response. The black haired boy looked so hopeless... so sad. When he had decided she wasn't going to say anything, Al looked down at his hands mournfully and picked at his nails. "I tried to sit in a different cabin, but everyone else said they had enough Potter in their lives and didn't need any more. Guess my bro's already gotten me a reputation, right?" Al gave a short laugh and returned his head to his hands.

"Why's he gotta be like that? Got everyone convinced 'm nuthin but trouble." The boy groaned into his hands. He seemed resigned to hold a conversation, even if he was the only one talking. "Least you'll let me sit here. No one else'll even do that... That's a pretty cat you have. May I pet it?" Al asked, Aster nodded slowly and the boy moved to sit next to her. "I got a owl, but its sick. Dad said he'd send it out to mehen it was better." Al stated.

Petting Jira seemed to comfort him, and Al smiled. He had a nice smile. "Don't tell no one, but someday I want to be the best wizard in the whole world." Al said, talking mostly to himself again. They sat in silence as Al continued petting Jira. "Aster." Aster said, breaking the prolonged silence. She enjoyed the silence, but the longer it got the less the boy smiled. Al's head snapped up to look at her and his green eyes seemed to swallow her whole. She knew those eyes...

"X'cuze me?" Al said, his shocked look turning confused. "My name..." Aster started again. "My name is Aster... and this is Jira." She looked down at the sleeping kitten. "Oh." Al said simply. "That's a pretty name." He added on after some thought. Aster's face flushed, she didn't usually care about compliments, but this one felt special. "Whacha read'n?" Al asked, turning his head to look at her book.

"Potions Master's Apprentice book Five." Aster read the cover out loud. "Whats it about?" Al asked. Aster stared at the book before responding "Potions." Al laughed and asked if he could see it. He flicked through several pages and seemed pleased. "You mind if I borrow this hen your done?" He asked, surprising Aster. She hadn't met many other people that read textbooks in their spare time.

"You can borrow it now, I've read it twice." Aster responded, smiling slightly at him for the first time. Al flashed her a huge grin and flipped through the pages for an interesting potion. "Hey, if we end up in the same house... You wanna brew with me sometime?" He asked. Now Aster fully smiled, maybe talking to Al wouldn't be so hard after all.

"I would like that." Aster nodded, then adding. "You should read this one, its about a potion that makes you weightless!" Aster couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice as she turned a few pages in the book. Al gasped in delight and instantly began reading about the details on the mixture. "I'll bet there ate lily pads and salamanders at the lake, but how are we going to get fairywig wings? Those only live in patches of alfalfa?" Al asked, pointing at the list of ingredients.

"If we need something, I'm sure I can always owl my father. He's owns a potion shop." Aster said quietly, looking over his shoulder. "Well if that's the case..."Al began, turning a few more pages. "Then we could try something much harder than that. Whats 'heart of ataraxia '?" Al asked, pointing at the title of an odd potion. "I'm not sure... but its suppose to make the drinker feel like nothing will ever go wrong again... but if you make it wrong it turns your feet purple." Aster answered.

Al stared at the page for a long time. "How do you make it wrong? Because that sounds like more fun." Al grinned. Aster laughed. "I'm not sure, but it would be easier to make this one, it turns your skin green!" Aster turned the book back a number of pages. Al laughed and pointed at the drawn image of a green man on the page. "Lookit! It says here that it has no taste. You know what that means?" Al asked, not waiting for an answer. "It means you can pour it in someones drink!" The train ride looked like it was going to be much more interesting than Aster had planned.


	3. Chocolate Frogs

Time began to pass much more smoothly on the train, and before they knew it Al an Aster were picking out treats from the trolley lady. Al made no hesitation in grabbing several chocolate frogs and two liquorice wands. Aster settled for a box of Ever-Burning Fireballs, a new candy on the market. They didn't actually burn forever, but they made flames lap out of your mouth whenever you spoke for several hours after you ate one. Aster would never tell mum, but she liked the idea of being a dragon much better than being a vampire.

When the trolley lady had gone, Al cracked open his first frog and let it hop about for a few minutes. He seemed more interested in the card in the box than the lively frog. "What did you get?" Aster asked, a red glow blooming before her eyes at her words. She as familiar with the card collecting tradition, but had little interest in the act herself. She loved the frogs though, and kept the cards she received from their boxes because throwing them out seemed silly.

She planned to use her current collection as flash cards for her wizarding history class, a tip of advice from her mother. "I got a Blubart Peridon the Stupid." Al grumbled. Aster stared at the card,she didn't have that one yet. "Do you collect them?" Aster asked, still looking over his shoulder at the card. Blubart was an ugly man. "Yeah, there's only a few I really want though." Aster looked at Al and waited for him to explain himself.

"Well, I only really want the Wizarding Wars The-Boy-Who-Lived Lives Again cards. " Al grumbled, still annoyed at the card in his hand. "I'll trade you?" Aster responded, eyeing the unwanted card. Al looked at her in surprise. "You want this one? Everyone has this one. You collect cards too?" Al looked as excited as Aster felt to discover another commonality between them. "Just before the war they changed the dye in the boxes, so all of the newer cards are a bit more green than the others." Aster said as she pulled her collection out of her backpack.

"On his way home from the shop father likes to grab me a chocolate frog... but he likes the color green a lot and always ends up picking the newer ones." Aster said as she put her cards in order. Al wrinkled his nose in disagreement. "No its true, box right there is newer than the others in the pile. I'll bet you it has a newer card in it." Aster said pointing out a box from Al's pile of chocolate frogs. Al jumped to open the box, and his jaw dropped at the card inside.

"It's a Neville Longbottom!" He exclaimed. Al held the chocolate frogs box up next to another box and squinted. "I can't see a difference though..." He mumbled. "That's what dad says too... Maybe I just have good eyes." Aster shrugged, laying her cards out on the seat across from them. Al cooed at her cards in amazement. He made a few random remarks about some of the cards, but seemed completely taken by the George Weasley card in her collection.

"I'll trade you for this one, but Blubart is nothing in comparison." Al rummaged through his bag for his on collection and pulled out the cards he felt were worthy of trade. Aster looked over the cards he offered, but only one of them caught her attention. "Severus Snape."Aster said, pointing at the card. Al furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the card. "That ones a pretty rare card..." He mulled over the card featuring the dark haired man.

"You may have any of the cards I have duplicated of if I can have that card." Aster said, rarity mattered little to her. She only wanted one of everything... and something about that mans look made her really want that card specifically. Al was happy to oblige, and gave her the Blubard card as well. "Snape is rare, but not that rare! If I get any other cards you want I'll give them to you too!" Al said, sorting out the remaining cards.

"Ya wanna know sumthin cool about that guy?" Al said, handing the Severus Snape card too Aster. Aster nodded and held the card up for examination. "My dad named me after him. And this guy!" Al rummaged through his cards to retrieve a battered Albus Dumbledore card. "Dad gave me this one for my 8th birthday... Its the one that started my collection!" Al said, enthused.

Aster nodded, still staring at her card. Later she would research this Severus Snape man. Researching the wizards on her cards was common practice for her, and many of her first cards had fun facts taped to the back for her to memorize. She liked history, but there was still something different about this card. No taping would be happening to this card.

After a long discussion on trading cards they eventually packed their collections away and prepared to change for their sorting day celebration. Aster slipped the Snape card into her pocket for further examination. Aster had stood in the hall while Al changed, and now he stood in the hallway for her. Aster hurried to straighten her blouse as she heard shouting suddenly coming from the doorway.


	4. Fight For Your Life

"Oooooh I see, ran away from big bro and now you're hiding out with Miss Stalks-a-lot?" A taller boy had backed Al into a corner and was poking him with their wand tip. The boy was blond, aguilar, and by the badge on his chest... a prefect. Aster drew her wand and held it to her side, with a quick tap the end was glowing very slightly.

"Ooh ho ho, and McCreepy pants is gonna protect you is she?" The blond boy sneered. Aster put on her meanest scowl, but couldn't keep her hand from shaking. Al tried to twist away from the other boy, but his shoulder was pushed back by the blond boy and he was trapped. Al looked at Aster with worried eyes, and she responded with a steady scowl. She hoped he would understand. He missed it.

Aster twitched the fingers on her right hand, attempting to catch Al's notice. She watched a calm spread over his face when he finally understood. "What? Lil brudder's all growd up?" The blond boy put down the wand tip and raised pulled back a fist. "All you're wonderful brothers done to me... I'm going to take out on you. I'm a prefect, so you can't even do anything about it. Then you'll both know better than to mess with a Malfoy."

The fist was moving in for an side swinging punch, but was halted mid movement. In motions that seemed almost choreographed Aster grabbed the swinging arm and put her foot behind the blond boys leg as Al shot in for an uppercut to the jaw. Within seconds Al and Aster were standing side by side with their wants out as Malfoy stumbled back, holding his jaw.

"You don't know any hexes either?" Aster mumbled under her breath. "Nope. Notta one that doesn't blow up in my face at least." Al mumbled back, then looking at her wand asked "What's that you're doing then?" Aster tapped her wand and a glowing marble fell from the tip. She caught and pocketed it, whispering "I'll tell you later." As she strode over to the older boy, who was still holding his face and checking for blood.

Aster tried her best to sound like her mother, and look like her father as she stood before the blond boy with her head high, chest out, and wand crossed over her heart. "If are such a fool as to intimidate others smaller than you, then you will be treated as a fool." She spat the words out as she struck her arm down and outward, her wand striking the side of the boys face like a switch.

She had seen her father do this to a boy outside the shop who had been mistreating a neighborhood dog. Aster had deeply admired the move and had spent much time attempting to mimic it, copying the words as well as she could remember. Wands had many unique properties that the general population tended to forget. One of these was that they never left a mark when someone was struck with them.

The blow should that have left a bright red streak, left the boy only with a humiliating memory and another pain in his face. The blond boy scampered away, and Aster prayed that it was not to gather backup. Both Al and Aster returned to their cabin, smiling at the turn things had taken. "No seriously, what was that glow?" Al asked, after they had both had a laugh.

"A recording charm. It traps whatever the wand can see and hear and the memory replays in the ball it produces. The glow makes it difficult to use secretly, which is why no one uses it. Its very simple though, so I can teach it to you." Aster said, pulling the marble out of her pocket to examine it. She held it up to the window to let the light shine through the marble and the room lit up with ghosts of the situation that happened only moments ago.

With boyish 'ooh's and whoops at the scene, Al reveled in their triumph. He even asked her to play it again when it had finished. Aster played the moment over again, but mulled on a troubling thought. Had they achieved victory? Had they passed whatever troubles had presented themselves?... Or had they only made things worse for themselves later on. Only time would tell. One thing was certain though. Aster would definitely be writing father about the incident.

The boy spoke highly of his family name, so it was reasonable to assume that they were of note-worthy blood. For the rest of the train ride it tickled at the back of her mind. What also bothered her was that she had so many recent cards of the present wizards, but none it seemed that were useful in current situations. Neville Longbottom as a master of herbology, Hermiony Granger was muggle-born, the Weasley family all sported red hair... The facts she had were largely broad spectrum common knowledge.

Perhaps a deeper investigation at the castle would reveal more secrets. She could find out substantially more than she knew now simply by asking students by the looks of it! Father was a very private man, and the only thing of his past that he spoke of was Lily. Now that Aster thought about it she realized she knew more about Lily than father! The thought jarred Aster and she found herself holding the locket father had given her... Well, she assumed father had given it to her.

Truth was, she had always worn the the locket... for as long as she could remember. It was a part of her now, though she had never gotten it open. When she had asked either of her parents about it they said she would find a way to open it when the time was right. Obviously the time wasn't right yet.


	5. First Flight

All to quickly Aster and Al were stepping off the train and into the cold autumn fog. Her unique blood as suppose to keep her feeling warmer than most, but Aster felt chilled to the bone. If father had been there would he have put his cape around her? Aster couldn't help but wonder... She had been home schooled and was ill-informed of the world at large. She had only been gone a day, had actually made a friend... and still wanted to go home.

When they reached the docks to board the fairy's Alaster backed away from the water, refusing to board. Al took her hand and attempted to coax her into what she saw as a drifting bit of death wood, but inevitably she refused to get on the boat. His eyes were concerned as they looked at hers, and she realized just how frightened she must look. Large bodies of water were quite deadly to her, and just being near it made her feel nauseous.

They were both delighted to find that the Headmaster had arranged a teacher to be waiting for her at the docks with a spare broomstick. Aster urged Al to go with the other students, but he refused. "If yer that scared by a lil boat... I'm not lett'n ya fly alone." Al said firmly, Aster almost laughed until she noticed how serious he was. His words were not even slightly in jest.

The professor held out the broom, and they both climbed aboard. Aster fumbled about, and admitted that she had not flown much on a broom. Al gave a startlingly low chuckle, and Aster looked over her shoulder to see him grinning wickedly. "My Da' taught me how to fly." He murmured to himself, and before Aster could ask another question they were airborne.

Aster could vaguely hear the shouting cries of the professor below, begging them to do... well, anything but what they were doing. Al shot them straight into the sky like a bullet, and came careening back toward the ground in a spiralling nosedive to rapidly for Aster to catch her stomach at the top. He pulled up from the ground inches before impact, and twisted and turned through the tree's by the water like he had planted them there himself.

From the time they left the docks it was less than a minute before the towering castle wall planted itself before them. The feeling of the wind screaming through her her ears as they blazed through the branches of a knobbly willow near the castle was almost enough to make her scream. The willow groaned and shuddered, moving as though it was confused. Like whatever had happened had been to fast for it to track.

Al yanked the broomstick to the side in a screeching halt, only feet from the castle wall. Aster climbed off the broomstick, her legs shaking and her stomach turning. "That-" Aster panted, kneeling to catch her breath. "Was one of the-... greatest things-... I have EVER done." She gasped out, looking back at the waving angry tree. Al puffed his chest out and stood proudly next to the broom. "Da' was a seeker." He stated profoundly.

Aster stared at the curious boy in wonder, but before she could respond they both turned to the shouting that arose from the forest behind them. It was the angry professor an older larger woman with her hair in a untidy bun. She was shouting something, but Aster didn't care much to listen. The teacher glided up to them still shouting, but was silenced when Aster strode up to her with her hands behind her back and gave the woman a stern look she had inherited from both her parents.

"Ma'am, how do we enter the castle properly?" Aster asked, a grave tone in her voice. The older woman looked absolutely indignant, and perhaps slightly flustered. That was a good sign. "Well I never!" Huffed the teacher. "Children ought to know better than to-" She began, holding up a lecturing finger. "Than to what." Drawled Aster, turning up her nose slightly. It was another motion she had well practiced.

The teachers mouth fell open and flushed red with anger, another good sign. "Children should know better than to-" The professor was in a full rage, arms in the air and her face beet red. Now was the time to strike. Full rage was when people lost their ability to think, to process. Father had coached her carefully in how to use this to her advantage.

"Because which professor instructed us _children_ on how to and not to use a broom before handing it to us? It would be irresponsible to simply hand two brand new children a broom without first ensuring they knew properly how to fly. Why, we've not even been sorted yet." Aster watched her words lash out at the teachers anger, like a snake striking a balloon and it deflating in slow motion.

The teacher's eyes widened in horror as it occured to her that she had given absolutely no instruction at all before handing the children the broom. Her eyes watered with emotion at what could have happened because of such an act. Aster spoke again, her words setting the situation in stone. "You should be very glad my friend decided to join us, because I've no idea how to fly... I would have fallen into the lake for sure without his aid."

Asters words wound their way around the deflated teachers mind like a viper winding its way around its pray... There was no escaping it now. The teacher fell to her knees and looked at Al with baleful eyes. "Thank you..." She murmured "What was that?" Asked Aster, still standing slightly between the powerless woman and he friend, arms firmly crossed behind her back and a glower in her eye.

"Thank you for keeping my ward safe... She could have been in so much danger..." The teacher whined, her eyes clouding over. Aster nodded sharply and turned her back on the woman. "Now, lead us to the proper entrance." She growled over her shoulder, acting as though she held the teachers incompetence with great disdain The teacher nodded, and rose wearily to her feet and plodded forward as though a great weight lay on her back.

Al looked at Aster with wonder in his eyes. "How did you DO that?!" He whispered to her in a hushed voice, as they both followed the professor. Aster looked at her shoes as she spoke. "The tongue, when used properly, is sharper that a double edged blade." It was a saying her father had given her, the end she did not speak aloud. The end of the end of the sentence was 'And ours is tipped with poison.'

Its meaning was that she, as well as her mother and father, had a particular way with words that could literally kill a persons heart with a single misplaced word. The greatest example... The heart wrenching tale of the insult her father had thrown at Lily in their youth. Words were powerful... and when used wrong, gruesome. the insult had shredded Lily's trust in him, the rest of the story too heartbreaking to dwell on.

Aster felt triumph, but again she felt the tingling sensation that if she did not trod this path carefully... Things could go horribly wrong.


	6. House Placement

Aster an Al stood side by side with the other new students, having slipped in at just the right time to avoid being made notice of. The other new students were preoccupied with staring wide-eyed at the castle, and the two slipped in like they had never left. Their distraught escort wandered away mumbling to herself, and Aster felt a pang of guilt.

It was necessary to cover for her new friend, but was making the teacher think she had failed to keep a student safe worth it? Aster wondered what the professors actual title was... perhaps she could make it up to her some day. Though, it would need to be fair trade. A gift would not heal the wound she had created... What would be of equal value? Aster pondered on the thought as names began getting called for the sorting.

An old battered hat called out house names one after another. Al said something, but it was drowned out by the shouting of the hat and Aster's own thoughts. Another student's name was called, and a cheer when their house name echoed in the silence. Another, another... The students that clustered around her tiptoed away like sand in an hourglass.

"Albus Potter!" Cried the announcer, and there was a roar of applause before he had even had a chance to step out of the crowd. Al was blushing, head down, and waving slightly at the crowd with his arms down to his sides. The boy Aster knew to be his brother was standing on the Gryffindor table whooping loudly and swinging a red cloth napkin over his head like a lasso. The Slytherin's did not cheer, but also did not hiss. They played up their disinterest by picking at their food. The Gryffendor's continued to roar as the hat sat silently on Al's head.

James Potter threw the red napkin at Al, and the rest of the Gryffindor's followed his lead. Soon red napkins reigned down on the stage like roses at a play, and the rest of the houses murmured to themselves. The hat was still silent. After a minute had passed a great hush fell over the crowd as they realized how uncertain Al's Gryffindor-hood was. It apparently had never occurred to them that a Potter could be something other than a Gryffindor.

Al's blush was turning to a pale look of terror as the hat was still silent, he looked over his shoulder at Aster as though she could somehow fix the hats silence with her clever words. The hat made a hissing sound, as though it were beginning to say Slytherin but stopped as Aster watched tears well in Al's eyes. He was shaking his head, and his mouth was moving... but Aster could hear nothing. The hat made a frustrated frown, and went silent again.

"SLYTHERIN!" Blared the hat, startling everyone in the room with it's suddenness. Al's jaw fell open and he appeared to stunned to remember to get off of the stool he sat on. After a heartbeat and to everyone's surprise the Slytherin's rose to a slow standing ovation. In a flurry of excitement Al's shaking form was herded to the Slytherin table, and James was shouting. To the entire Gryffindor table's dismay James had to be escorted out of the room.

Aster's eyes followed Al as he wandered to an open seat at the table, and the Slytherin's seemed more puzzled than excited. More names were called, more students were placed... but the room had a solemn air about it, as though someone had just died before them. Aster was snapped out of her trance as the anouncer butchered her name in an attempt to call her. "Asterikeeaaee Prince?" They croaked, and Aster flinched as they drew out silent letters and mangled her beautiful name.

Aster sulked to the stool where the hat waited for her, and put it on her head. Aster wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't to hear the voice of the hat in her head. "Oh, another curious case hmm?" Echoed the hat. Now was her chance to ask the question burning on her mind. "Why did you put him in Slytherin." She demanded. "Albus? Because that was the only place for him." The had stated simply,then mumbled some drivel about the inner-workings of her head. "WHY. You KNEW that was not where he wished to be!" Aster demanded again, unable to keep the hat away from the rage she pent inside when she became angry. It was literally in her head.

"Another brave one? I see how it is." The hat chuckled, amused. The thought of Al's tear filled eyes boring into her soul was enough to keep her on one track alone. "Why." She asked again, more calmly but still firmly. It was imperative that she not give in to blinding rage. "You have known that boy for how long?" Asked the sorting hat, mulling through her mind as though it were looking through a library for a good book to read. "... One day..." Aster admitted slightly sheepish. She hated not being able to keep her soul from the prying hat.

"You have known him for one day, and already that boy would kill to keep you happy. There is no doubt that Slytherin is the only house suited for him." The hat said casually, looking through some memories of her mother. Aster was dumbfounded. The boy was so sweet... So kind... Not possibly... No. The hat had to be wrong. No, the hat had very clearly said 'to keep her happy' not 'safe' not 'alive'. Happy. Suddenly she hated that word. His violence toward the blond boy suddenly seemed much more deadly, and she was glad she had stepped in before he could act again.

Her standing between had kept the boy she hit safe, not the boy she protected... "Such a brave girl." Mulled the hat. The weight of it hit her like a stone. "Put me in his house." Said Aster. She could feel the house shaking with laughter. "Put me in his house now!" Aster shouted in her mind, her inner rage becoming untamable again. "That boy would not have hurt the other boy right in front of you! That's what makes him a Slytherin. He would have poisoned him later, undoubtedly. He still may even." The hats words cut her like they had come from the darkest part of her heart and she was someone else listening.

"Fine." She admitted, wishing she had never known the truth. "I am well known for my cunning and vindictive nature. The black blood of my mother deep in my veins, and my father has cultivated me into a crafty mind. Put me in Slytherin with him." Aster said, the words of the had stung her, but she would not give up hope for Al so quickly. The hat was laughing again. "So honorable and loyal! For that you should be a Hufflepuff! Willing to throw yourself out there like that." The hats words intimidated her... but at the same time an idea struck her. "Throw myself out there... That's it! That professor must have a chance to save the student she almost lost! I will restore her faith in herself if it kills me!"

Aster momentarily forgot her situation, but was jarred back into place by the hats response. "So clever, so brave, so self-sacrificial..." The hat mulled, then gave it's verdict. "That my dear, is why you will never be a Slytherin." With that painful sentence the sorting hat bellowed Aster's house name.


	7. Aster's House

"GRYFFINDOR!" Bellowed the sorting hat, and Aster nearly screamed. Just before the hat was lifted from her head it gave her one last thought. "You may be able to hide your true nature under the mask of your father... but I know who you really are. I know who your father is-" The hat was cut off as it was taken by the announcer and she was shooed from the stool. She wanted to scream, cry, yell, tear the stupid hat to pieces .. but instead she walked straight toward the Gryffindor house table as though she had been spelled there.

The rest of the sorting was a blur, and Aster watched it pass through misty eyes. She was seated where she could directly see Al's shaking form, as he stared at her with tortured eyes. No one spoke to either of them. The headmaster spoke she was an elderly lady, school year announcements. A new teacher had come to the school. A new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, not that she had known the old one. Then the old woman aid the name of her father. Her father? Aster was shaken from her trance and looked up at the tables in confusion.

There he was, waving calmly at the four tables. A quiet applause, but he did not smile. She locked eyes with him for a split second, but he returned to glazing over the rest of the room with a bored expression. That was a common look for father, but she wasn't expecting to see it coming from the teachers table! She hadn't even looked at the teachers table before that moment. Aster stared at her father with an open mouth, and the rest of what the headmaster said was lost to her.

Food appeared on the table before her, and she struggled to take a mouthful of red meat. She didn't feel like eating, but it was very bad for her to get hungry. The meat was extraordinary! Aster decided to forget the last psychotic hour of her life and focus on the delicious meat instead. There was no way she would be able to accept the last hour tonight anyway. The blood lust inside her took over and she swallowed three blood sodden steaks before she looked up again.

Everyone around her for at least five places in any direction was now staring at her as she pulled a fourth slab of meat to her plate. When a vampire was deprived of blood it was not uncommon for them to eat several pounds of red meat at a time, and though she had grown up with five or six steaks being a normal portion six for her mother... the others around her apparently had not. It was normal for her to eat three pounds of meat when she wasn't hungry... How much did mother say normal people ate again?

Oh yes, less than a pound and they mixed it with breads and vegetables. Gross. Aster tried to eat the next bleeding slab of meat slower, but one look at her father with his head in his hand told her the effort was useless. She let out a sigh and continued eating, there was nothing to do about it now. When she had finally grown full and stopped half way through the fifth steak, she looked up to observe her onlookers. She attempted to give them her fathers bored look, but it wasn't helping.

The boy directly in front of her, sitting between her and Al, stuck out his hand. "I'm Hugo." He began, and Aster did her best to look annoyed that she as reduced to speaking to him. He didn't notice. "That... Was by far... a thing of absolute _beauty_." He said slowly with an expression of awe. Aster was not the only person the only person stunned by the red haired boys words.

Aster furrowed her eyebrows, unsure of how to react. "Only person I've ever seen eat like that is my pa!" The red haired girl next to slapped her hand to her forehead in mock annoyance. "Hi, I'm Rose, and this is my idiotic brother. Your name again?" Rose said in an unnervingly polite way. Aster glared at her, curious how the overly polite girl would react. "I know, I know I should remember it from the sorting ceremony, but I'm assuming what I remember wasn't said properly from the look you gave Mrs. Balbury."

Aster raised a curious eyebrow, maybe this girl wasn't as dimwitted as her brother. Rose sounded perceptive and like she had a good memory... but those things could be mimicked. Remembering a name is not the same as remembering a promise when it was made. Father couldn't care less about someones name, birthday, or favorite food... but he never forgot his promises. Ever.

"Asteraceae." Aster growled, her arms folded obstinately over her chest. She hated giving out her full name, but Rose should hear it pronounced properly at least once. "That's lovely too." Noted Hugo, as he turned back to his food. Rose thought on the name for a minute and responded. "I'm afraid you'll have to spell it. Is it French?" Aster shook her head but refused to speak again, only nodding and shaking her head.

Rose tried to coax more definitive answers out of her with questions that could not be answered yes or no, but that resulted in Aster shrugging her shoulders. Diner seemed to last for ages as Aster looked from the teachers table to the Slytherin table and back, wishing there was something... anything she could do.

At long last the eternal meal was over and she was escorted to Gryffindor tower. She would have retired sooner if she had known the way to her chambers. The guide rambled on and on about various things she already knew, and she tuned out most of the things he said. Yes, the stairs move. The paintings as well. Ancient and proud house, founded by Godric... That's nice. These were things she would have known by reading a travel brochure. Not a common item in the wizarding world, but father kept a number of them from various travels he went on before marrying mother.

Aster was more interested in what was behind the scenes. What was on the other side of the wall next to her? A classroom waiting for use, or a secret hallway known only to the builders? Father had told her some of the secrets of Hogwarts, but not many. He told her she needed to find them herself, and she planned to. Aster traced her fingers along the ancient stone and wondered how Al was fairing.

When she was shown her room, she was pleased to find her bags arranged beside her bed and a sleeping Jira on her pillow. The room was emblazoned with red and gold, and Aster was pretty sure it was so bright she wouldn't notice if one of the beds was lit on fire. She grimaced at the bright colors and opened a pouch on the front of one of her suitcases. The pouch was bigger on the inside of course, and she pulled from it a thick black blanket. From another she pulled a similarly colored black cloth.

Several more first year girls were on the other side of the room making shrill high pitched noises at each other and Aster tried hard to ignore them. She had been raised around adults and had never expressed an interest in the shrill babbling of little girls. She threw the black blanket over the red and gold one, and set about fastening the cloth around her bed as a curtain. She had figured she would want the black bedding no matter which house she got into, and she was right. The red and gold were blinding.

The curtain was as much to keep the sunlight out as much as it was to keep her roommates at bay. She had never had before, and did not want now, an eleven year old girl as a friend. She had seven years to decide if any of them were worth knowing.


	8. What Happens in House Stays in House?

Aster awoke to what she assumed was morning. There was a commotion outside her curtain, but it didn't sound like children doing their hair. She pulled back her curtain, and glared at the moon that hung in the 4am sky. She had just had a very long day, was naturally nocturnal, and now this? With a furious look she stalked out of her bed to see what the fuss was about.

Her roommates were all clustered around the doorway to the Gryffindor common room, but they refused to go past it. Some girls giggled, some gasped, all made noise. Aster was careful to move silently, as she moved to stand behind the girls... and without so much as a squeaking floor board there she was. A blond girl turned slightly and screamed when she was startled by Aster standing behind her.

Aster knew the fright she must look to the girl, black hair, black pajamas, pale skin and eyes that could kill. She tried not to laugh as the initial scream sent the other girls squealing and running away in a frightened panic. Maybe this year wouldn't be as horrible as she had feared. Aster peered out of the doorway and was shocked to find the scene that lay before her. The brunette haired man who had stated himself as being her head of house, talking to a suave blond haired woman who had been announced as the Slytherin head of house and the aged old headmaster between the two.

The most mind boggling part? Al was standing in front of the headmaster, her arm draped around his shoulder. Al has a black eye, a bloody nose, and puffy cheeks from crying. "Please, tell us again what happened dear boy." Said the headmaster in a grandmotherly voice. "Wu-wu-well h-Headmaster McGonagall... I wuz-" Al stiffed loudly, as he spoke. A blood soaked rag held to his face. "I wuz try'n to go to my quarters and the prefect-" Another sniff and Aster could smell the blood start to flow again.

"The prefect j-jumped me ma'am... I swear iz true!" Al finished his plea, but the Gryffindor head of house pulled his head back in disgust. "So what is he doing here? How do we even know that's true?! No offense Ma'am, but Slytherin's are not known for their trustworthy nature." He looked at the Slytherin's head of house, and she tilted her head in agreeing, nor disagreeing with the accusation. "He said that there was a girl here who could prove the validity of the claim." Said headmaster McGonagall.

"There sh-she is! Aster, show'em the ball thing! I don't want to go back there..." He simpered and leaned into McGonagall's robes. Aster gave him a blank, curious look... but went to retrieve the marble from the pocket of her robes. She brought the marble downstairs, and handed it to the headmaster. The three adults replayed the moment, and the Slytherin head of house hung her head in shame at her student. "Scorpius use to be such a good boy..." She said sadly.

"Its not odd for power to go to ones head. He will be punished, but not expelled." The house heads nodded in agreement with McGonagall's words. "I believe the boy will stay here for now. I have spoken to the sorting hat, and he agree'd that though the boy should be a Slytherin... This is the best way to keep him safe from the other students. Gryffindor's are well known for their protective nature, and I believe he has several close friend here to keep an eye on him." McGonagall stated the resolution the Gryffindor head of house puffed out his chest in house pride.

Aster made a mental note that compliments could go a long way with the man, that was a good thing to know. "Thank you professor Longbottom, sir." Al said, bowing slightly to the brunette man in gratitude. Professor Longbottom sighed, ruffled Al's hair and said "I could never forgive myself if I threw a Potter boy out in the cold. Come on then, lets get you cleaned up. The house elves will bring your bags shortly." Professor Longbottom, Asters head of house, lead Al toward the boy's side of the dorms.

Al stopped halfway to the doorway and ran to give Aster a hug, she was excited... but something felt off. "Did that boy really attack you?" She whispered in his ear, using the hug as a moment to confirm or silence her worries. "Its amazing how far a little provocation and a little not fighting back can go. I promise you, every bit of it was him. I just let him." Aster nodded slightly in affirmation, and let go of him beaming. "I'm glad your here." She said, doing one last check for honesty in his eyes.

She could see it, he was telling the truth. He had done nothing but let the other boy succumb to his rage... In a way Aster was relieved, and in a way she was proud. Relieved that Al was here with her and that neither of them would spend the next seven years friendless. She was proud that he had gotten his vengeance without seriously hurting anyone. All in all, he handled the situation better than she could have hoped!

Aster crept back to her bed, her interest in the coming school year renewed.


	9. Onward, To Classes!

Aster stroked her kitten Jira as she pulled on her blouse, and for a few moments she felt calm. The kitten was playful today, and she eventually put it in her backpack to keep it calm. The small animal seemed quite happy to stay in the bag so she resigned to bring it with her to her to classes. When it her bag, the kitten lay quietly, so she let it be.

At breakfast headmaster McGonagall announced Al's change of house and informed the school that it had happened several times in the past, listing off the names of famous witches and wizards. Al had not been misplaced... but that did not make his placement suitable. Her first class of the school year was charms with professor Luna Lovegood, and the Ravenclaw first years.

All in all Aster enjoyed the class, but found that the teacher referenced many creatures she had never heard of. Aster wondered if it was her own sheltering... or if the teacher was simply a bit strange. The conversations she overheard after the class hinted that it was the latter of the two. Al and her had been stuck on opposite sides of the room. Perhaps she would later ask to get moved away from the window so she could be seated next to him. Her second class was Hexing for beginners, a remedial class she had been put in because of her inability with wand magic, she knew no one in that class.

At lunch she once again found herself sitting with Hugo and Rose, the first of which seemed fascinated with watching her eat. It was only two pounds of meat, hardly a snack compared to what she planned to eat for dinner. Aster made sure to tuck some bits of meat into her bag for her unruly stowaway. She enjoyed the kitten, and it stayed quiet through classes... but problems would arise if it was found in her bag.

It was not until double potions after lunch that she had a class where she could sit with Al. As soon as the professor requested the class to partner up, they found each other. Their potions professor was the Slytherin head of house. The blond woman announced herself with pride. "Greetings class, my title is Professor Tutela Lazarus. I am a pure blood from Bulgaria. You will refer to me as Miss Lazarus Professor Lazarus, or Madam Tutela. I am not 'Ma'am', nor am I 'teacher'. This is your first, and last warning."

Professor Lazarus words were curt, but Aster found them inspiring. Her chaotic charms professor couldn't hold a candle to the authoritarian potions master. It seemed only slightly unusual that the woman announced her heritage, but if heritage was of value to her then it was something to take into account. Now that Aster payed closer attention, the woman was not actually blond. Her hair was a sheet of silvery gray, that hung so straight it must have weights on the end of each strand.

Al made a disgusted face at the teachers introduction, but Aster ignored him. Once or twice Al opened his mouth to whisper to Aster, but the room was so silent that the parting of his lips made enough noise to earn him a dirty look from the strict professor. A Gryffindor girl in the second row dropped her quill and nearly began to cry when Professor Lazarus strode to her desk.

To the shock of the shaking girl, Miss Lazerus plucked the quill from the ground and handed it back to her saying only "Its difficult to take notes with your quill is on the ground." before returning to her lecture. It was a simple lecture, covering what they would learn in the coming year... but it had Aster riveted. She knew all of the potions of course, and looked forward to proving her skill to this new teacher.

Once, and only once, Jira mewed in class. Most of the students looked around at each other, trying to figure out what the noise was and who it had come from. Aster did her best to mimic the other students and imitate their cluelessness, hoping that no one would notice her. Only two people did. Al, who knew she owned the kitten... and professor Lazarus.

The professor instantly made eye contact with Aster, but returned to the lecture without pointing her out to her classmates. Aster hung her head slightly and decided she would stay after class to give the professor time to lecture her without calling her out. At least Miss Tutela hadn't made her stand up or apologize like her father probably would have.

After class was dismissed Aster put her quill and parchment away slowly, ignoring Al's tug on her arm as the other students left the room. "I'll be along in a minute..." She grumbled, turning to see if the teacher would beckon her to come to the front desk or leave the room. The bulgarian professor nodded that she appreciated her staying, and Aster set her bag on the desk as Al and the last few students left the room.

Aster hung her head and waited for professor Lazarus to lash out at her. The tall woman strode to the desk Aster's bag sat on and set a hand on the desk. Her fingers were long and thin, ending in nails that looked more like claws than fingers. One of the claws tapped on the table expectantly. "You were bold to stay. Lets see it then." The teacher said, waving her other clawed hand at Aster's bag.

Aster did not feel bold as she opened the flap of her satchel and pulled the small kitten from it. Suddenly taking the kitten to class seemed like a horrible idea... but it had made such a fuss about being left behind! The kitten was no bigger that a softball when it was curled up, and in her hands it purred for attention.

The teacher tutted softly, her hand suddenly moving toward Aster, and she flinched. Aster worried that the outstretched hand was coming in for a strike. She was relieved that the teacher had not struck her, but instead reached out to take the tiny ball of fuzz from her hands. In her opinion a blow would have been well warranted for bringing a pet to class. Aster handed the woman the small kitten that now wiggled so much she had no idea how it had stayed silent for so long.

Though the kitten had been purring loudly in her hands, it suddenly began mewling when it was handed to Miss Tutela. "Now..." Began the gray haired woman, turning Jira in her hands. "Who would give their child such a demanding pet? Do you even know what type of animal this is?" Lazarus asked, examining the now very loudly mewling kitten.


End file.
